Alec and Steph teamed up as a secondary scavenging team. Whereas Lizzy and I, along with Briana, Lois, and Mary, focused on towns and houses and stores, those two specialized in farms, primarily regarding livestock, related equipment, and animal feed. They proved to be quite good, and it wasn’t long before we had actual herds outside the castle. Having grown up in the city, I do think that’s somewhat funny to say. Anyway, there was a small one of cattle, kept primarily for milk, and a larger group of goats, also composed primarily of the ladies. We even had some horses. The numbers kept were based on what Steph thought was most manageable, with an eye for breeding.
In addition to ours, we freed each and every head of livestock we encountered, cutting barbed wire, opening gates, and so forth. There were thousands of cattle, goats, sheep, horses, donkeys, llamas, bison, and so on roaming the countryside. We could round them up later if need be or just use them for hunting. Add in traditional game animals, like deer, and we had no shortage of readily available meat running about.
I’m not going to get into the chicken coops too much, other than to say those birds are disgusting critters. They smell funny. They make a lot of noise. They are evil and peck one another to death for no reason I could see. However, the availability of eggs is good.
Now, you would think that with so much stored up in the way of canned goods and other scavenged foods, having harvested corn and wheat and other crops from nearby farms, premium beef all around, and living in an isolated, safe fortress people would be happy. If so, you are wrong. Oh, and let me mention that we have electricity. That means real lights, television, and even some video game systems for entertainment. To ensure it kept running we installed a partially buried, thousand gallon tank for the generators. They were not going to run out of fuel anytime soon. For the first time since it all began, I was satisfied with the situation.
I seemed to be the exception. Whiners, the lot of them, almost all anyway. As to the discontent, I will admit that part was my fault. It really was. The low morale, however, was the product of individual minds. We occasionally spotted a zombie on US-385, sometimes on one of the service roads. A few believed this meant we weren’t safe, that a horde would come around the bend any moment to tear us limb from limb and devour us. Viv was at the forefront of that nonsense. We were as secure as a person could reasonably get. Damn woman was just being stupid, and her fears had a tendency to spread.
The second issue affecting morale, which should have been accepted and thus disregarded, was learning that zombies are immune to the cold. Most of us, myself included, assumed that when the temperature dropped they would freeze. After receiving some light snow and a few nights where it plunged into the teens, we discovered that zombies never slowed or even seemed to notice. As it was, any extreme cold would cause us difficulty and leave our enemies unaffected. Annoying, yes, but it could be dealt with.
* * *
While most of October and November was spent building, scavenging, and preparing for the winter, there was a single event of magnitude which I need to share. It happened during a raid into Chadron. There were plenty of zombies in the town, always were. For whatever reason, the parasites favored the place or possibly the roads leading there. I’m digressing though. Suffice it to say, while in Chadron we always had to be careful.
Briana and I took the Jeep Wrangler into town. Lizzy and Steph drove a pickup with one of the animal trailers hitched to the back. As predicted, those proved to be incredibly useful when making these trips. They are enclosed, so you don’t have to worry about things falling out, and they’re low to the ground so loading is easy. Having to lift things or walk up ramps was the reason we largely stopped using U-Hauls and similar trucks.
Lois and Mary normally went on these runs, but poor, suffering Mary needed to learn algebra. As the weather grew colder, Cherie steadily increased the class load for the kids and teenagers. Lois was never far from her little sister, much to Mary’s eternal annoyance, so she stayed behind to help Larry with the inventory or something. I don’t remember, but it was bound to be useful, important, and terribly boring.
On this excursion we were going to search Chadron State College and the local high school. They were conveniently placed near one another, so it should have been easy enough. The plan was to get writing supplies, paper, text books, and the like for Cherie’s school. Some of the survivors also wanted notebooks or journals for their own use.
“Zombies in the grass,” observed Briana.
“More like on the dirt. The grass is all dead now.”
“Stop being so picky. At least the snow melted, mostly.”
“Still cold,” I countered, “so bundle up.”
“Please, I am way more bundled than you. You’re going to get sick Jacob, and then I’ll laugh at you and withhold all sympathy.”
I didn’t feel uncomfortable in the leather jacket I was wearing, but it was in the low 30’s. I was going to need something more substantial soon, probably within a few weeks.
“Where should we park?” asked Steph, over the radio.
I shrugged. “Tell them we’ll set up by that statue thingee over there. It’s an open area with some sidewalks.”
Briana relayed the instructions, and we watched as Lizzy hopped out of the still moving truck so she could bash a zombie with her tire iron. So impatient, but at least the thing was taken care of. I left any other nearby shamblers to her violent ministrations and opened the back of the trailer. We kept several shopping carts inside, appropriated from a local grocery store. Provided the ground was level and smooth, they made looting much easier and faster. That was important you know. Efficiency is everything.
“Who’s doing what?” asked Steph.
“Why don’t you take watch,” I suggested.
She nodded and climbed onto the trailer’s roof. Standing or sitting up there had also become common practice. The person on watch was effectively out of reach, or at least hard to get to, and had a good view of the surrounding area.
“Briana and you can bring the carts,” said Lizzy. “I’ll take point. College first?”
“It’s closest,” I agreed.
Out of habit, I checked the .40 caliber automatic on my belt. Having found plenty of ammunition over the past few weeks, I now carried eight full clips when working. I also had the hunting rifle slung over a shoulder. I rarely used it on zombies, but with humanity gone wildlife was beginning to enter the cities and surrounding areas more often. Additionally, we’d been running into packs of feral dogs, along with the occasional hog. Both could be dangerous, and it had become necessary to cut back on their numbers. We even saw a lion once, way off in the distance. I’m guessing it came from a private home, somebody’s exotic pet. I’m not positive, but I think I read once that there were thousands of the great cats privately owned and bred in the United States. A lot of them had likely been set free by their owners when the world went to Hell. No idea if they’d be able to survive long term.
“Now, follow me,” said Lizzy. “I’m the expert here, so do what I say, my little cart minions.”
“Sure thing,” replied Briana, in good humor.
Steph made herself comfortable. “Some zombies in the distance, heading this way. I think you’ll have to kill them before you reach the doors.”
Nothing unusual with that. Actually, the numbers seemed lighter than normal. It might turn out to be a good day.
“I’ll get them,” declared Lizzy, brandishing her tire iron.
I can’t say why Lizzy enjoyed killing the things by hand. At times it was prudent, even necessary. Still, no matter how careful a person was, she tended to come away with some incredibly nasty stuff stuck to her clothing, and those stains never came out. Lizzy always took precautions, covering her mouth and nose with a scarf and wearing large sunglasses, but I was all but one hundred percent certain that an actual bite was required for the infection to spread, that nothing else would do it.
“That one had a softer head than I expected. Damn, i
nconsiderate zombie fuck.”
Splattering was an issue. Maybe I should find her a poncho.
We began to scour the place, encountering only a single zombie inside, which was dispatched and shoved out a window. We learned the hard way not to leave rotting corpses indoors.
“Guys,” called Steph. “I have a situation here.”
“You need us?”
“Yeah Briana, I think so. Some men just rode up on motorcycles, no idea who they are. They killed a few zombies down the road too. One of them, a really, really big fellow, used a sledgehammer, swinging it like it weighed nothing. I don’t feel good about this. They’re coming toward me now, and they do not look right.”
“On our way,” she replied.
We abandoned the carts and rushed back through the school building. We’d been on the far side but were able to hear the motorcycles pull up. The engines cut off well before we reached the outer door. Then we heard a gunshot.
“What the fuck!” snarled Lizzy. She pushed the doors open, pistol in one hand.
“Not good,” added Briana, taking in the sight.
There were three of them, each wearing a heavy denim jacket covered in patches. A large man, well over six and a half feet, was holding his arm, blood dripping from the wound. It appeared that Steph shot him. The other two had her on the ground and were trying very hard to rip her jeans off. She was struggling, screaming, cursing, and kicking.
I took aim with the hunting rifle and hit the one kneeling on Steph’s arms. The angle was perfect. The shot was easy. I never hesitated. It didn’t occur to me until much later that this was the first breather I ever killed. But he was no better than a zombie, and I never felt the slightest remorse for shooting him in the face. I realize this may reflect poorly on my psychological state, but I really don’t care.
That got their attention of course. The big one pulled a revolver from beneath his jacket, using his good arm. The other let go of Steph and turned to face us. She promptly kicked him in the head.
“Crap!” exclaimed Lizzy. She grabbed Briana and pulled her down as the biker opened fire.
My second shot took him in the center of his chest. He fell to the ground but still managed to get off another three rounds. They didn’t come anywhere close.
“Oww!”
Briana was lying in the dirt, Lizzy on top of her.
“Sorry.”
I ignored them both and hurried toward Steph. She was back on her feet, kicking the living shit out of the would be rapist. I was in no way inclined to stop her, so I kept my rifle pointed at the big one. He was lying there, covered in blood with one hand over the hole in his chest. I’d missed the heart but probably hit a lung. His breathing was off, and he was fading fast. The man said nothing. He just stared at us with unbridled hatred, a look Lizzy returned in full. Then she shot him, to speed up the dying as she later explained.
“Steph,” I said, a minute later.
She continued to scream and stomp.
“He’s dead Steph.”
The slender redhead had smashed in his skull and chest, and all sorts of important things were leaking out.
“Enough!” I shouted.
She slowed, then stopped. Briana embraced her as she began to cry.
“I…” Lizzy didn’t know what to say.
“I got it,” said Briana. “You two kill the zombies that are coming.”
The noise and gunshots had brought a large number of them, fifty or sixty at least with more trailing in behind, coming from multiple directions.
“Want to just run?” asked Lizzy.
In the background I heard Briana telling Steph it would be okay, that it was over. Nothing like this had come up before, and I had no idea what to do. We were with a good group of people, and there simply hadn’t been any personal violence, other than minor scuffles and the incident with Julie.
“We’ll pack up and go. We can retrieve the carts later, in a few days or whenever we come back.”
“Good call Jacob.”
Steph was beginning to explain to Briana how she shot the big one the moment they opened their mouths and made it clear what they wanted from her. The man had reach though and managed to grab her leg and yank her off the trailer, even with a bullet in him. It had happened so fast that Steph’s gun was dropped before she could shoot him a second time. Lizzy cut the conversation short by ushering them into the pickup’s cab. She got behind the wheel, leaving me to drive back in the Jeep, alone.
* * *
Two days after the unpleasantness in Chadron, I was sitting in our crappy cinderblock townhouse wannabe with Briana, Lizzy, Lois, and Mary. We’d started the evening discussing Steph. News of what almost happened spread immediately, largely because Steph was quick to announce that she had beaten one of the men to death and had no problem doing it a second time. A few of the more religious members of our community told her that while she had every right to defend herself, killing others is not something to be proud of. That sort of talk didn’t last long.
“How’s she doing?” asked Mary.
“Surprisingly good,” replied Briana.
“Steph’s strong,” said Lizzy. “Better than most in this miserable place.”
“And we got there before they actually, you know,” added Briana.
There were a lot of people using phrases like “you know” the past two days. I thought it kind of pointless. Still, whatever made them happy. And Steph had bounced back pretty well, at first glance, but she now carried two pistols and several knives hidden about her body at all times. Also, while she insisted that she was indeed fine, her eyes never stopped moving, never ceased searching out any potential threat.
“I shouldn’t have killed that fucking asshole,” remarked Lizzy, harshly.
“He did deserve it,” offered Lois.
“Well, yeah, but I should have left him there for the zombies to eat. I made it too fast. The zombies were right there, coming for him. I was just so pissed. Damn it!”
“Done is done,” I said. “Let it go.”
We were upstairs in the bedroom Briana and I shared. Like all the front rooms, it had a big window facing the interior of the castle. The rear bedroom had a smaller one that looked out into the countryside. Those were up high, near the ceiling, so no one walking on the wall could peek inside. As a result, they did little other than provide a bare minimum of natural light.
“You know Jacob,” began Mary, “you really need to talk to Cherie.”
“Is she still going on about the workloads?”
That had been one of the primary gripes, and I was the one who established them making me the culprit.
“Nope. Cherie is past that. She’s now saying that you make them do things that aren’t even needed.”
“The stuff is necessary,” protested Briana. “Everything we do is important. It’s not like the animals don’t need their water troughs filled or to be cared for.”
“Not that,” said Lois. “People don’t mind doing that sort of thing. It’s the patrols around the perimeter and the heavy work like bringing in more and more firewood and chopping it. They say it’s too much and doesn’t need to be done.”
“And,” continued Mary, “people are terrified you’ll make them go out scavenging and face the zombies or the raiders.”
“Raiders?” I asked.
“That’s now the term for the men who tried to hurt Steph,” she explained. “Surprised you hadn’t heard.”
“The looting is voluntary!” declared Lizzy. She was far more irate at this revelation than me. “We haven’t required anyone to come along since the initial run to kill stuff in Chadron and get the supplies to build this place.”
Mary shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Cherie says it should be completely voluntary. I know it already is, but I think everyone wants that formal or something. You and Jacob make people do all sorts of other things. They worry.”
“We do not!”
“She’s right Lizzy.” I motioned for her to sit
back down. “We do force the others to work. It’s all things that need doing, regardless of what they think, but we do require all to contribute. Being lazy and doing nothing is not tolerated.”
“That’s different,” she protested.
“Cherie is good at spinning things,” I added.
“The bitch is smart,” admitted Lizzy, thinking about it. “Still, this seems stupid. We won’t force anybody to come along, don’t have to, so it doesn’t matter.”
That was very true. The complaint seemed to be more than a little pointless. Then again…
“Lizzy, we’re talking about Cherie. She’s positioning things to her benefit, as always. It’s something else she’s concerned about, not going out to get supplies.”
“What do you think she’s up to?” asked Briana.
Mary shook her head. “No clue. It doesn’t even make sense. We go out cause most no one else refuses.”
“Sweetheart,” interrupted Lois, “I can’t even begin to explain how grammatically poor and incorrect that statement was.”
The slender teen laughed. “Sorry, the words sorta ran together.”
“So,” I said, “should we be worried about this?”
“Nothing bad that I can see,” said Mary. “I don’t think anything will happen. People are just bitching more than normal.”
Lois shook her head as well. “I don’t think so, but expect more complaints. And mind your language Mary.”
“Fine. Just so I can put Cherie’s garbage off for a few more days. We can do a big group meeting when we get back and discuss any issues the others are having. Probably should be doing that more regularly anyway.”
“I don’t know about this trip Jacob,” said Briana. “We’ve never been that direction before. We’ve never met anyone who’s been that way either. We don’t know what we’re going to find.”
“We have to look for other survivors,” protested Lois.
“Damn fucking straight!” declared Lizzy.
“Lizzy,” I said, “calm down before you fall over dead of a heart attack. Also, your screaming is starting to hurt my ears.”
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary Page 36